Disclaimer: Not mine, if it was I wouldn't be sitting here writing this.
No.I'd be in a tropical place with a shirtless Spike.
A/N: This is my first posted story so be nice.or I'll cry or glare evilly at you. Run along now and read it, you know you want to.
Spike sat down at the small desk in his little apartment. A pile of papers accompanied him. Paper and pen just seemed better than all the technology. It wasn't like this'd be difficult to write mentally. Though emotionally he was a wreck. He missed her so much, even to this day. 'Here goes nothing' he thought.
This is probably one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my 200 hundred years of existence.
But I'm the only one that has ever known the best Slayer that ever was, inside out. Despite that, I was still surprised me when they had asked me to write this, not Angel.
When she had died I had lost a piece of myself. My light if you will. I know for a fact that she wasn't or ever will be the only Slayer to have had vampire lovers. But did, or will, any of the Slayers love them? Were they like Buffy was or did they accept their darkness earlier on?
Buffy had lived most of her life in denial. Her father had left them. Then she was called upon to be a Slayer. A Slayer of monsters that she had only heard of in books and movies. Finding out they are real can be quite a shock.
I suppose Angel hadn't helped with her denial too much. She had fallen hopelessly in love with him. Her first true love I would assume. Angelus was a rotten bastard who liked torture. Making his souled counterpart very broody. A soul will either make you that or drive you insane. Not really sure which one is worse.
When he had lost his soul, he lost his love for Buffy. All it was after that was an obsession. She was just some bitch to fuck with in his mind. He was cruel to her, tried to end the world, so she had to kill him. And let me tell you that would not be an easy thing to do.
So she built a wall around herself and only a select few could penetrate it. It took me a long time to do this. Then she died.
Buffy had only been 35 years old, granted that was way older than most Slayers ever got. She had been killed by just a regular vampire. He had been an older one, not nearly as old as me. Maybe younger by 75 years or so. She had been coming to visit me. We had gotten into a fight, which with us wasn't all that uncommon. I decided to go stay in my old crypt so we could cool off. She had been distracted, with what, I still don't know to this day. But distracted none the less. The vamp had got her and had nearly drained her dry by the time I had gotten to her. I felt her pain between the bond we share. I killed the wanker that had been draining her and pulled her into my lap. I hadn't been fast enough, she was slowly dying. We said our "I love you's". She told me to tell all her friends and the Bit as well. I had been tempted to turn her, but I knew that would have devastated her. She deserved the peace that death would bring her and who was I to take that away from her. The Scoobies had already once, I couldn't betray her like that as well.
From then on I had made it my mission to protect them. All of them, even the whelp. I wanted them to die from natural causes. Like normal people should. But I guess none of them were ever really all that normal. As the years past they slowly began to die. I stayed there until the end. The dark figure in the corner, like some kind of angel of death.
The loneliness must have gotten to me because I got desperate enough to seek out Angel. He surprisingly greeted me with open arms. Ever since we have fought the "good fight".
I'm not daft. I knew we'd never be "best friends". Hell we are barely friends now. We are just two beings with the same missions in life. The same problems. Sometimes, during the darkest part of night, and the depression from the unbelievable losses we have each felt, we talk. Sometimes it is about Buffy. Things we love about her. But it usually hurts too much, so we often times leave that subject to rest. More often than not it is about our souls. About the pain we each feel, how it still burns and tortures us each day. I guess our greatest question is where will we end up? I mean we are still vampires, don't get me wrong. But we have suffered for what we have done. Will our souls keep us out of hell? I guess that remains to be seen.
I didn't plan on writing this to tell you the trials and tribulations of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That's what the Watcher's Journals are for. I wanted to tell you about the real her.
She had close friends. Ones that were willing to give up their normal lives as naive teenagers. They helped her fight. A sister who wasn't even real. She was made from Buffy. A mother who eventually learned to live with the fact that her daughter was a Slayer and that in fact vampires are real. She had watcher that was a surrogate father. She also had me. When we fought, whether against each other, or side by side it really was like we were dancing. We always knew what the other had on their mind. Which way they were going to punch. When they were going to duck. How much force was going to be put into that kick. We just knew.
She's always been different from the others. I knew it from the start. She had this fire about her that I craved to know. Even when I hated her. Eventually I got to feel what that fire was. And I still crave it. Only it is worse because now I really do know what I was missing.
She had a spark that no other Slayer I have ever met has. I think it was because of her friends, her family. I think to get a true Slayer you have to give her that. Something to live for. Giving her that one key to life can make her fight harder than ever thought possible. Buffy was frowned upon for having them. But she lived until she was 35. And if I hadn't been such a bloody fool and apologized to her like I should have, she might have even lived longer. I always told her that death was her gift, but I think in hindsight that her gift was actually the gift of life. And everything that has to do with life. When she loved, she did it with all of her heart. And the same goes for hate. I am one of the few that have been on both sides of the spectrum.
After writing all this I have decided that I can't live like this anymore. So if you try to find me after reading this you're out of luck. I think it is time for me to find out where I am destined to be. Hopefully it will be with her. I will get to see the sun again. May Buffy's legacy live on and be taught to others. I hope you consider my advice and learn to have great Slayers like you have once known. It is possible, for it has been done before. That and I have seen it. Good luck. -William the Bloody aka Spike
Spike folded up the letter and put it into an envelope for Angel to give to the newest Watcher. From there it would be sent to the council in England. Then he decided to write a goodbye note to Angel. He at least deserved to know what had happened to him.
-Angel, I realized while writing this letter to the council that I really don't have much else to live for. I guess partially the curiosity has finally got to me and I just want to find out where this bloody soul will take me. Never wanting to be the nancy boy you are, this is hard for me to say. I respect you greatly, even though I have never said so. And I even hate saying this more but I guess I fell it needs to be said, I do love you Angel. As awful as that sounds I do. Maybe it is the alcohol talking, I don't know. My father had always told me that what you say under the influence is actually your true feelings uncensored. But what did he know, he had been a drunk himself. Take care, see ya on the flip side, where ever that may be. At least I know that you'll show up one day too. -William
After writing the note to Angel he left the apartment for the cemetery. The same apartment he and Angel had shared for over 50 years. He slowly stalked down the roads of Sunnydale, his leather duster billowing in the wind of the night. If anybody had seen him that night they'd probably try to stay far away from him. His look of determination was just as frightening tonight as his most evil look would any other night.
He made it to his destination...Buffy's grave. If he was going to die, it'd be with her. He sat down and propped his back up against the headstone.
"Hey luv." He whispered to Buffy as if she were there listening to him. He took a drink of Giles' old Scotch. Spike had decided to leave it for a special occasion. Somehow it seemed fitting that he drink it now. That and by the time he was done with it, he'd be too drunk to even feel the pain of the sun burning him.
So he just sat there waiting for morning to come. Every once in a while he'd talk to Buffy's grave. Just telling her about events of the past few days.
"Spike? What the hell are you doing?" Of course Angel knew where he'd be. He wasn't that dense.
"What does it look like I'm doin', peaches?"
"You're drunk."
"Well yeah. Thank you bloody Captain Obvious."
"You can't make this kind of decision while being as drunk as you are."
"Technically I had already made my decision before I got drunk. The alcohol is just...preparation."
Angel sighed in defeat. He wasn't going to get anywhere fighting with him.
"Can I join you then?"
"Only if you promise to leave before sunrise."
"I promise."
Angel sat himself next to Spike and he leaned against Buffy's headstone as well. They just enjoyed the other's company without saying anything. It was better this way. The first light of morning began to creep into the sunrise.
"'Bout time for you to go."
"I guess so." He looked over at Spike. He leaned over and gave Spike an awkward hug. Angel figured that since he'd be dust before too long that they should settle their differences. Just as awkwardly as he hugged him he let go and stood up.
"I am proud of you." He whispered to Spike.
"Say hello to her for me." With that Angel left Spike sitting there. Spike had told him enough in the letter, he didn't think he'd ever say it aloud. Another piece of himself had been lost, it probably wouldn't be too long before he met the same fate as Spike. He slowly made his way back to the empty apartment.
The sun inched ever so slowly over the horizon. It bathed the earth with it's light, slowly coming towards the blonde vampire.
"So beautiful," he whispered to himself, "I love you Buffy." Those were his last words as the sun began to burn his skin. All he saw was a blinding bright light as he turned to dust upon Buffy's grave.
...and I will never see the sky the same way and I will learn to say goodbye to yesterday and I will never cease to fly if held down and I will always reach too high 'cause I've seen 'cause I've seen, Twilight...
Spike stood in front of the door that led into the Bronze. He wasn't sure about how he got here, but he wasn't complaining. He slowly opened the door and made his way to the main area, it looked exactly the same as he remembered it. Presently the building had been torn down to accommodate the growth of Sunnydale, in other words, it is now a huge parking lot for an even bigger mall.
They were all there, the Scoobies, his Scoobies. They all sat around one of their more popular tables, this is how he remembered it from so long ago. There was one spot open in between Buffy and Dawn. He sat himself down there without even thinking.
"We kept them warm for you." Buffy told him as she gestured to the buffalo wings on the plate in front of him.
"How long have you been waiting?' Spike whispered to her.
"Too long." They both turned back to the conversation at the table. It was like it had always been, music was playing softly in the background. The only difference was that he belonged.
Spike was home...
...as the sun shines through it pushes away and pushes ahead it fills the warmth of blue and leaves a chill instead and I didn't know that I could be so blind to all that is so real but as illusion dies I see there is so much to be revealed...
A/N: This is my first posted story so be nice.or I'll cry or glare evilly at you. Run along now and read it, you know you want to.
Spike sat down at the small desk in his little apartment. A pile of papers accompanied him. Paper and pen just seemed better than all the technology. It wasn't like this'd be difficult to write mentally. Though emotionally he was a wreck. He missed her so much, even to this day. 'Here goes nothing' he thought.
This is probably one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my 200 hundred years of existence.
But I'm the only one that has ever known the best Slayer that ever was, inside out. Despite that, I was still surprised me when they had asked me to write this, not Angel.
When she had died I had lost a piece of myself. My light if you will. I know for a fact that she wasn't or ever will be the only Slayer to have had vampire lovers. But did, or will, any of the Slayers love them? Were they like Buffy was or did they accept their darkness earlier on?
Buffy had lived most of her life in denial. Her father had left them. Then she was called upon to be a Slayer. A Slayer of monsters that she had only heard of in books and movies. Finding out they are real can be quite a shock.
I suppose Angel hadn't helped with her denial too much. She had fallen hopelessly in love with him. Her first true love I would assume. Angelus was a rotten bastard who liked torture. Making his souled counterpart very broody. A soul will either make you that or drive you insane. Not really sure which one is worse.
When he had lost his soul, he lost his love for Buffy. All it was after that was an obsession. She was just some bitch to fuck with in his mind. He was cruel to her, tried to end the world, so she had to kill him. And let me tell you that would not be an easy thing to do.
So she built a wall around herself and only a select few could penetrate it. It took me a long time to do this. Then she died.
Buffy had only been 35 years old, granted that was way older than most Slayers ever got. She had been killed by just a regular vampire. He had been an older one, not nearly as old as me. Maybe younger by 75 years or so. She had been coming to visit me. We had gotten into a fight, which with us wasn't all that uncommon. I decided to go stay in my old crypt so we could cool off. She had been distracted, with what, I still don't know to this day. But distracted none the less. The vamp had got her and had nearly drained her dry by the time I had gotten to her. I felt her pain between the bond we share. I killed the wanker that had been draining her and pulled her into my lap. I hadn't been fast enough, she was slowly dying. We said our "I love you's". She told me to tell all her friends and the Bit as well. I had been tempted to turn her, but I knew that would have devastated her. She deserved the peace that death would bring her and who was I to take that away from her. The Scoobies had already once, I couldn't betray her like that as well.
From then on I had made it my mission to protect them. All of them, even the whelp. I wanted them to die from natural causes. Like normal people should. But I guess none of them were ever really all that normal. As the years past they slowly began to die. I stayed there until the end. The dark figure in the corner, like some kind of angel of death.
The loneliness must have gotten to me because I got desperate enough to seek out Angel. He surprisingly greeted me with open arms. Ever since we have fought the "good fight".
I'm not daft. I knew we'd never be "best friends". Hell we are barely friends now. We are just two beings with the same missions in life. The same problems. Sometimes, during the darkest part of night, and the depression from the unbelievable losses we have each felt, we talk. Sometimes it is about Buffy. Things we love about her. But it usually hurts too much, so we often times leave that subject to rest. More often than not it is about our souls. About the pain we each feel, how it still burns and tortures us each day. I guess our greatest question is where will we end up? I mean we are still vampires, don't get me wrong. But we have suffered for what we have done. Will our souls keep us out of hell? I guess that remains to be seen.
I didn't plan on writing this to tell you the trials and tribulations of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That's what the Watcher's Journals are for. I wanted to tell you about the real her.
She had close friends. Ones that were willing to give up their normal lives as naive teenagers. They helped her fight. A sister who wasn't even real. She was made from Buffy. A mother who eventually learned to live with the fact that her daughter was a Slayer and that in fact vampires are real. She had watcher that was a surrogate father. She also had me. When we fought, whether against each other, or side by side it really was like we were dancing. We always knew what the other had on their mind. Which way they were going to punch. When they were going to duck. How much force was going to be put into that kick. We just knew.
She's always been different from the others. I knew it from the start. She had this fire about her that I craved to know. Even when I hated her. Eventually I got to feel what that fire was. And I still crave it. Only it is worse because now I really do know what I was missing.
She had a spark that no other Slayer I have ever met has. I think it was because of her friends, her family. I think to get a true Slayer you have to give her that. Something to live for. Giving her that one key to life can make her fight harder than ever thought possible. Buffy was frowned upon for having them. But she lived until she was 35. And if I hadn't been such a bloody fool and apologized to her like I should have, she might have even lived longer. I always told her that death was her gift, but I think in hindsight that her gift was actually the gift of life. And everything that has to do with life. When she loved, she did it with all of her heart. And the same goes for hate. I am one of the few that have been on both sides of the spectrum.
After writing all this I have decided that I can't live like this anymore. So if you try to find me after reading this you're out of luck. I think it is time for me to find out where I am destined to be. Hopefully it will be with her. I will get to see the sun again. May Buffy's legacy live on and be taught to others. I hope you consider my advice and learn to have great Slayers like you have once known. It is possible, for it has been done before. That and I have seen it. Good luck. -William the Bloody aka Spike
Spike folded up the letter and put it into an envelope for Angel to give to the newest Watcher. From there it would be sent to the council in England. Then he decided to write a goodbye note to Angel. He at least deserved to know what had happened to him.
-Angel, I realized while writing this letter to the council that I really don't have much else to live for. I guess partially the curiosity has finally got to me and I just want to find out where this bloody soul will take me. Never wanting to be the nancy boy you are, this is hard for me to say. I respect you greatly, even though I have never said so. And I even hate saying this more but I guess I fell it needs to be said, I do love you Angel. As awful as that sounds I do. Maybe it is the alcohol talking, I don't know. My father had always told me that what you say under the influence is actually your true feelings uncensored. But what did he know, he had been a drunk himself. Take care, see ya on the flip side, where ever that may be. At least I know that you'll show up one day too. -William
After writing the note to Angel he left the apartment for the cemetery. The same apartment he and Angel had shared for over 50 years. He slowly stalked down the roads of Sunnydale, his leather duster billowing in the wind of the night. If anybody had seen him that night they'd probably try to stay far away from him. His look of determination was just as frightening tonight as his most evil look would any other night.
He made it to his destination...Buffy's grave. If he was going to die, it'd be with her. He sat down and propped his back up against the headstone.
"Hey luv." He whispered to Buffy as if she were there listening to him. He took a drink of Giles' old Scotch. Spike had decided to leave it for a special occasion. Somehow it seemed fitting that he drink it now. That and by the time he was done with it, he'd be too drunk to even feel the pain of the sun burning him.
So he just sat there waiting for morning to come. Every once in a while he'd talk to Buffy's grave. Just telling her about events of the past few days.
"Spike? What the hell are you doing?" Of course Angel knew where he'd be. He wasn't that dense.
"What does it look like I'm doin', peaches?"
"You're drunk."
"Well yeah. Thank you bloody Captain Obvious."
"You can't make this kind of decision while being as drunk as you are."
"Technically I had already made my decision before I got drunk. The alcohol is just...preparation."
Angel sighed in defeat. He wasn't going to get anywhere fighting with him.
"Can I join you then?"
"Only if you promise to leave before sunrise."
"I promise."
Angel sat himself next to Spike and he leaned against Buffy's headstone as well. They just enjoyed the other's company without saying anything. It was better this way. The first light of morning began to creep into the sunrise.
"'Bout time for you to go."
"I guess so." He looked over at Spike. He leaned over and gave Spike an awkward hug. Angel figured that since he'd be dust before too long that they should settle their differences. Just as awkwardly as he hugged him he let go and stood up.
"I am proud of you." He whispered to Spike.
"Say hello to her for me." With that Angel left Spike sitting there. Spike had told him enough in the letter, he didn't think he'd ever say it aloud. Another piece of himself had been lost, it probably wouldn't be too long before he met the same fate as Spike. He slowly made his way back to the empty apartment.
The sun inched ever so slowly over the horizon. It bathed the earth with it's light, slowly coming towards the blonde vampire.
"So beautiful," he whispered to himself, "I love you Buffy." Those were his last words as the sun began to burn his skin. All he saw was a blinding bright light as he turned to dust upon Buffy's grave.
...and I will never see the sky the same way and I will learn to say goodbye to yesterday and I will never cease to fly if held down and I will always reach too high 'cause I've seen 'cause I've seen, Twilight...
Spike stood in front of the door that led into the Bronze. He wasn't sure about how he got here, but he wasn't complaining. He slowly opened the door and made his way to the main area, it looked exactly the same as he remembered it. Presently the building had been torn down to accommodate the growth of Sunnydale, in other words, it is now a huge parking lot for an even bigger mall.
They were all there, the Scoobies, his Scoobies. They all sat around one of their more popular tables, this is how he remembered it from so long ago. There was one spot open in between Buffy and Dawn. He sat himself down there without even thinking.
"We kept them warm for you." Buffy told him as she gestured to the buffalo wings on the plate in front of him.
"How long have you been waiting?' Spike whispered to her.
"Too long." They both turned back to the conversation at the table. It was like it had always been, music was playing softly in the background. The only difference was that he belonged.
Spike was home...
...as the sun shines through it pushes away and pushes ahead it fills the warmth of blue and leaves a chill instead and I didn't know that I could be so blind to all that is so real but as illusion dies I see there is so much to be revealed...
